


All Hallows Eve

by deadgranger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, Dark, F/M, Halloween, Spooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 05:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19192972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadgranger/pseuds/deadgranger
Summary: Around All Hallows Eve, a certain kneazle has work to do in the forest.





	All Hallows Eve

Brittle leaves crunched under rough paws as the kneazle wound her way through the undergrowth. Her brown speckled fur blended in with the decaying forest around it. An ear picked up a distant sound and the kneazle paused, listening for a moment, then continued on when it determined the foolish mouse would be snatched by an owl soon enough. The kneazle determined that the sounds of the forest were elevated and cacophonous tonight due to the approach of All Hallows Eve. Sniffing the air once more to regain the scent towards her quarry, the kneazle treaded lightly, avoiding the twigs hiding under the layer of dead leaves on the forest floor. 

An anxious meow less than a kilometer away had the kneazle picking up the pace and running through the undergrowth, no longer working to stay silent. She knew that some terrible person was trying to dump a poor black kitten they no longer wanted because of the work it took to raise young ones. Or, someone was attacking a black kitten because the humans held silly superstitions about black cats around All Hallows Eve. Either way, the kneazle was determined to save the youngling.

As the undergrowth thinned and more moonlight seeped through the canopy, the kneazle slowed its pace and returned to its stealthy walk, ears twitching, listening for another cry. She heard crunching leaves and the mutterings of a male human about two hundred feet ahead of her, so she slowed even further, taking extreme care to look for the best position from which to observe the situation. There was a small clearing, if it could even be called one, that the noise was coming from. The kneazle settled in behind a thin bush to watch, tense in case she needed to spring into action. 

A man stepped into her view, struggling to hold not one, but actually multiple black cats, one of which she immediately recognized as being part-kneazle. They were squirming in his arms, trying to scratch and bite at anything the man put within reach. The part-kneazle was only half-heartedly participating, as he was now attempting to locate his other brethren whose scent he had caught. 

The kneazle made a low, throaty growl, intending to scare the man into dropping the younglings. This caused the kittens to pause in their struggles, allowing the man to gather them more securely, the exact opposite of her intentions. Crouching low, she prepared to jump through the bush and onto the man’s body. She let out an aggressive snarl and leapt, digging her claws into the flesh of the man’s side as she hit him. 

Her sudden weight and claws on his side made him reflexively open his arms to deal with the pain, and the younglings fell to the ground in a heap. The part-kneazle male quickly gathered his wits about him and helped the others to their feet. Seeing that he was fine, the kneazle resumed her attack on the human with ferocity, slashing his shirt to shreds and drawing blood wherever she could. The man had slow reflexes and did not anticipate the younglings attacking his shins and ankles with vigor. He fell to his knees when he tripped over his own shoe, allowing the attack to continue higher. The kneazle clambered to his shoulders and gave him a hearty scratch across the face before leaping off, out of his reach. She hissed menacingly at him and called the younglings to her, watching as the male stumbled away cursing. 

As he withdrew towards the edge of the forest and human civilization, the kneazle ushered the younglings along with her, back in the direction she had come previously. The little group moved quickly through the forest, the decaying leaves crunching softly under the small paws of the kneazle’s companions. They traveled for an amount of time enough that the slightest hint of the coming dawn appeared at the edge of the horizon. 

After exiting the woods, the kneazle led them down the path, knowing exactly where she was going -- home. She approached the cottage, communicating its safety to her little pack of younglings. When she reached the front door, she yowled three specific notes and held a paw up to a section of darker wood. The identification spell complete, the door opened wide enough to allow each of the cats to enter one at a time. 

The door closed magically behind them with a soft click, muting the whispering trees and hoots of owls as they hunted for a meal. The kittens all huddled together in the middle of the entryway, unsure of these new surroundings even though the kneazle had assured them it was going to be safe. A door opened from elsewhere within the cottage, and light sets of footsteps came from across the way. Two humans, male and female, entered the room, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and pulling bathrobes closer around themselves. An orange cat with a squashed face wove through his humans’ legs and softly butted heads with the kneazle before sniffing the new arrivals. 

“Looks like she’s rescued another set of kittens tonight,” the male human said, crouching down to rub between the kneazle’s ears for a job well done. 

She meowed her confirmation and then gently pulled the male part-kneazle away from the group, meowing once more, this time at the female human. The human kneeled down as well, picking up the kitten and observing it closely. 

“Not just kittens, dear. This one is at least half kneazle, too--look,” she said, pointing out the larger ear and small tuft of fur at the end of his tail. 

“Well would you look at that,” the male human said, peering closer at the kitten the woman held in her arms. 

“I don’t suppose we could keep him at least? Let the other ones be adopted to good homes?” the woman asked, giving her companion a pleading gaze.

He ran a hand through his white-blond hair and exhaled. “I suppose not. Maybe then your Crookshanks might start liking me more with another male around the house.” 

She stuck her tongue at him and replied, “Or maybe he’ll like you less because this little guy will take up all of your Chanceaux’s time and he won’t have his partner in crime.” 

Smiling, he tenderly petted the kitten’s head and then picked up two of the others. “Let’s get them all settled in then, shall we?” 

The woman grinned broadly back at him and picked up the remaining kitten in her free hand and followed her partner deeper into the cottage. Chanceaux and Crookshanks followed close behind, happy to be reunited once more. 

~*~*~*~

The following year, Chanceaux took her new youngling with her to rescue more black cats from worse fates around All Hallows Eve. They revelled in the crisp coolness of the air and sounds of the night in the forest around them as they proceeded on their self-imposed duty. 

Soon enough, humans both muggle and magical learned that if they were to attempt to get rid of their cat in the forest, they would befall a terrible attack and the cat would be taken to a safe home. The number of incidents eventually decreased to zero and Chanceaux then took it upon herself to venture into the nearby human settlement to check up on her fellow kneazles and cats alike. 

The forest maintained its spooky reputation, and cats were no longer harmed or discarded around All Hallows Eve. 


End file.
